


Black Lotus

by SansyFresh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: All the Undergrounds opened onto one surface, Anger, Angst, Bitterness, Calling it Storyshooft but really its Storyshift Papyrus, Canon Child Death, Child Death, Eventual Happiness, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Grief/Mourning, Hate Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Its the souls, Just using my own version of the kind of AU, Loss of children, Lots of Angst, M/M, Memories of rape, Mentions of Rape, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Past Prostitution, Past Rape/Non-con, Past and Current Prostitution, Racism, Rarepair, Skippable smut scenes, Therapy, Therapy Positive, asshole humans, its gonna take a while but we'll get there, minor fluff, time skip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2020-12-28 11:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21135953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansyFresh/pseuds/SansyFresh
Summary: Poppy has lost more children than he's kept. He can never forget, and he doesn't know that he can forgive either.Cash has lost more than most people ever will. He'll be fucked if he lets that kill him.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> i know i said no new fics but my soul was crying out to write this one lol
> 
> so have the start of my Royalmoney fic!!
> 
> just a disclaimer, the owner of Storyshift does not want people making their own versions of the AU and/or using the characters for shipping purposes. So this is still Poppy, the past Queen of the Underground, and his Sans was still King, but everything else is different and i call it Storyshooft because im wholly original thank you
> 
> also theres a big timeskip in this first chapter
> 
> enjoy :D

The morning had started like many others, with the swift stir of a whisk and the pour of a thick, golden batter into a heated pan. It was quiet, except for the grease popping and the general sounds of frying foods, but then it was always quiet when he was alone. Pancakes were slid onto a waiting plate, piled high before slathered with berry syrup and butter, bacon placed in a small tower next to them. 

He settled into one of the two chairs at his kitchen’s little table, the plate placed in front of him along with a glass of water, a knife and fork and a small stack of napkins Grillby had loaned him the last time they’d seen each other. The pancakes were golden brown, crisp on the outside and fluffy on the inside, the bacon crunchy and grease covered, but, as with most meals now, it all tasted of ash. 

He managed a single pancake and half a piece of bacon before pushing the plate away, hands coming up to rub at his eyes before the warm stinging could take over. He was okay. It would all be okay, he knew it would be.

The rest of the morning was spent, again, much the same as many others. He cleaned up from his breakfast, putting the rest of the pancakes and bacon in a small tupperware box to sit in his fridge until he thought he could stomach trying it again. It clicked noisily against the rest of the boxes as he put it on a shelf, Poppy ignoring all of them as he shut the door.

The floors were vacuumed. The curtains were dusted, the ceiling fans dusted, the shelves dusted. His bed was made, the blankets curled artfully at the top, just beneath the pillows. Then, everything clean and in its place for the day, Poppy sat in his large armchair, the blanket he’d been knitting over his lap as he tried to ignore the building warmth in his sockets.

He was successful as the ground beneath him shook and rumbled like an earthquake, his walls trembling and random things falling and shattering from the sheer force of what could only be two things. The largest cave in the Underground had ever known, or the Barrier shattering.

Neither option was appealing and both had him up and out of his chair, down the stairs, and through the Door.

  
  


_ A few months later… _   
  


Poppy leaned forward to take the large folder of paperwork Papyrus was offering him, the small envelope with his first pension payment inside the front pocket. He checked to see that it was indeed there, as Papyrus had told him, not really fully trusting this version of himself (and wasn’t that still a kick in the teeth) with the soft smile and earnest eyes.

Papyrus only watched with that same smile as he did, nodding in satisfaction as Poppy glanced up at him. “I’ve made sure your paperwork went through as quickly as possible, Poppy. Your name has been officially set in the Humans’ records as Poppy Aster, as well as the new Monster ones. Your apartment is now officially, legally in your name and no one can give you any trouble about it… anymore.”

Papyrus gave the pile of papers Poppy took to be reports of such incidents a sour look. “If your landlord is still giving you problems, please call the number listed on the card inside the pension envelope, its my personal cell phone and I’m happy to help at any time.”

Poppy’s mouth opened, then shut. “You don’t have to do that, dear, I used to be a Queen. I can take care of myself.”

Papyrus’ grin widened. “Yes, but you don’t have to! Not anymore.”

Poppy wasn’t sure what to say to that, simply smiling blandly. Papyrus seemed to understand and quickly delved into explaining the paperwork fully to him, especially the bits he needed to sign and send back to the quickly thrown together Embassy. Papyrus, as the Ambassador, had also taken on the job of getting his personal alternates into homes and as legal citizens as quickly as possible. 

Poppy wasn’t sure who the first he’d helped was, nor where he himself laid in that list, but he assumed from the speed he wasn’t the last.

They’d reached the end of the long, drawn out conversation as Poppy began gathering all of his things and putting them in the bag he’d brought with him, pausing as Papyrus cleared his throat.

“Poppy… this may seem forward, but have you thought about becoming an Ambassador? Or working with the Embassy? With your background I’m sure things would go very well!”

Poppy tried to not let the way his hands had begun to shake at the thought, the way his throat closed up at the mere mention of him working with the likes of his brother.

“No, thank you I think. I’m very much retired from that sort of business.” he said calmly, much more calmly than he felt. Thankfully Papyrus let the matter go with a grin, getting up to let Poppy out of his office and down the hall to the front doors.

Poppy didn’t let the tears fall until he was safely in his squat little car, headed down the road to what was now home.


	2. A Bucket of Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof, been a while with just one chapter hasn't it, ooof lol
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy :D
> 
> (trigger warnings for allusion to child death/murder, this is my own take on storyshift kay?)

Cooking without fire magic was an experience in and of itself. He was so used to burners that required magic to light, but here he was turning dials and pressing buttons like some kind of wizard. He’d figured out the microwave easily enough, and while the toaster still startled him on occasion (only when he wasn’t prepared!), the stove was really the only kitchen appliance he was still struggling with.

None of the other hims had attempted contact after he’d left the Embassy that day, and it’d been another few months since then that he’d spoken to Papyrus. Monsters had rights now, more than they’d had that day Papyrus had assured him his landlord would no longer give him any problems. He could drive without being pulled over to check he had a license every time he went somewhere, he could get books from the Library without having to prove he had a citizen card. 

He’d started seeing Doctor Cofka about a month ago, seeing as how most monsters, especially those from the Fellgrounds, all required some form of mental and or emotional therapy. She was a brightness in his otherwise dreary existence, an older black woman that always wore a necklace of fake pearls. He’d told her once, that they were fake, and she’d just laughed and scheduled his next appointment a week earlier than usual.

Sticking his hands under the stream of water from the faucet, he let the cool water wash away the sticky flour that had accumulated from the bread he’d been making. It was now in the oven, baking away with magic fire that wasn’t his own, and yet he could still feel the sticky dough clinging to his fingers even as he dried them roughly with a hand towel. 

Glancing at the clock, he swore as he grabbed the tupperware box of cookies he’d baked a day earlier, a new recipe he was trying out. Slipping on his coat Papyrus had bought him and the boots he’d brought up from the Underground, he stepped outside, the cool box of cookies tightly held in his hands as he headed straight for his beat up little bug.

It was a half hour drive to the clinic, Poppy pulling into the closest lot to the exit as he could, before he headed inside with his box. He offered a cookie to the receptionists, as well as the doctor that came out with a sniveling child and the child himself, though the mother took one look at Poppy and pulled her kid away from him and out the doors before he could do more than silently sit where she’d been.

“Poppy?” Cofka’s voice called, her warm smile a balm to his soul as he stood and offered her the box of cookies.

“I made these yesterday, thought I would try a random recipe online. They’re banana nut cocoa.” He said, following her back to the therapy rooms. His was always warm, colored in vibrant hues that made his anxiety about being in what was essentially a child’s room a little less. 

“Thank you, Poppy dear. I’ll be certain to have everyone in the office try them.” She said kindly, and Poppy smiled in return, settling in for a long hour and a half.

By the end of it he’d cried twice and finally told her about the first child, his dear Chara. It was the first time he’d ever been a papa and it was the last time he’d ever felt as though he’d done right by any of them.

She’d listened, offered tissues, and at the end she’d led him out with a hand to his lumbar. Even if it wasn’t precisely needed, it was appreciated, and he hugged her before heading back into the lobby.

He was just about to head straight for his car after signing out with the receptionist, when a flash of purple caught his eye, making him glancing over to see what the garish looking, offensive article of cloth was.

It was in fact another Papyrus, an eyepatch over their right eye as they glared off into the far distance. They looked a bit roughed up, the only real nice piece of clothing they seemed to own the purple jacket that had caught Poppy’s eye in the first place.

He weighed the pros and cons of approaching the skeleton… then decided to let them be. He had a bread at home to get back to, provided the house hadn’t burned down, oh dear, had he really left the oven on and _left_?

Oh _dear_.


	3. Pretzel Bread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooo its update time!! end of the year update for this fic yall XD sorry its been so long!!
> 
> enjoy :D mind the tags!!

Poppy had taken the rest of that week to come to terms with the sad fact that he’d burnt his bread. Thankfully his house had remained unscathed, but the oven was a bit charred and the pan he’d had the bread in was a goner. He’d woefully thrown the cooled pan in his rather large garbage can, then had set about cleaning the char out of his oven, which took the better part of a day. 

The rest of the time remaining was spent trying to work through the thoughts that always came into his head after a therapy session; mostly that he was still a horrible father. Talking about Chara had really truly stirred it up this time, his first child that had tasted the outside world but had ultimately been slain by their own people.

It sort of made Poppy hate humanity as a whole, as he’d been a bit cold to the first human that fell after Sans had declared war on the Humans. Sans, his silly, lazy, asshole of a brother, declaring something so serious? Poppy hadn’t taken it serious until the first child had fell and Sans did what he thought he had to, what he thought would be best for his people.

Poppy had been horrified. So horrified that he’d left, running for the Ruins in desperation to get away from the true monster his brother had become. 

It was his fault, that their Underground had devolved so far that the human children were attacked the moment they came through the door. 

Beating the dough that he’d been working with for the better part of an hour, a pretzel bread that would need at least 3 hours to rise, Poppy took in deep breaths, exercising the steps that his therapist had given him for when he felt like he was going to have a panic attack or worse. Which, panic attacks were fairly tough to deal with on their own, good stars. 

The dough was finally ready, Poppy setting it up in a bowl with a towel over it, sat on the back of the stove before he headed out of the kitchen and into the living room, where his boots and coat were waiting for him. He slipped both on, tightening the belt to the coat a little tighter than usual, and headed out the door. He had another session to attend to, no sweets this time, but he was planning on a trip to the store afterward in order to get the cheese to make a sauce for his pretzel bread. 

First was his session, something he wasn’t exactly looking forward to after the last one had affected him so badly. Maybe she would give him a bit of a break this time, and they could talk about things like crochet and the new recipe for satay chicken he was going to attempt. Maybe she’d even let him leave early, since he did need to go to the store! Yes, it wouldn’t hurt to be optimistic about this.

Arriving at the center, Poppy took a deep breath before getting out of the car, locking it carefully behind him before striding inside. Doctor Cofka was already waiting for him, arms crossed behind her back as she smiled up at him. 

“Hello Papyrus, are you ready?” she asked kindly, and if the use of his real name made his a little misty eyed, well. That was his own business, and Cofka wouldn’t judge him for it. 

Their session was another brutal one, despite his hopes. They talked about their past conversation, and Cofka asked if Poppy would be willing to provide some art of Chara, if only them. And they’d been “them”, his darling Chara had never been one for gender identity. 

She’d asked about his endeavors at home with his homework, and Poppy could be honest in the fact that he’d been diligently doing the paper work as she gave it to him. 

Then they’d shook hands as her timer went off, and he headed out of the therapy room with promise to bring her some of his homemade brownies the next time he came on his teeth.

That was when he saw the same Papyrus as before, the one with a single eyepatch and the grumpiest look on his face. Poppy gave him a short, assessing look, before stepping over to him. Surely, as a Papyrus, he’d know dignity and wouldn’t cause a scene even if he wasn’t ready to talk.

He was proven right, but not in the way he would have preferred. 

“What the fuck do you want?” he snapped, Poppy feeling a bit short as he raised a brow.

“I thought I’d come and say hello, seeing as how this is the second time I’ve seen you here and we are, in a way, the same person.”

He scoffed, the other Papyrus, and waved a chipped hand. “Well fuck off, I don’t care if we’re the same person or what the fuck ever. Just leave me alone and go back to whatever mansion you live in.”

Poppy’s mouth dropped, his rebuttal that he did _not_ live in a mansion of _any_ sort dying in his soul as Doctor Cofka came from around the corner, calling out again. 

“Cash? Are you ready?”

The purple hoodied skeleton stood, pushing rudely past Poppy to follow her to the back. Poppy was left in the waiting room, teeth gritting as he pushed past his anger with those same deep breaths, and headed outside to his bug.

Thankfully no one had tampered with his faithful little car, because he might have well screamed if they had. Driving to the store, he spent as little time there as possible, only grabbing what he absolutely needed to make his dinner and breakfast the next day, hoping that by then he might have cooled off enough not to snap at the disrespectful employee that ran the main register.

Arriving home, he sat in the drive way, eggs and bread in his back seat, a fair amount of chicken in his trunk, and just for a moment, he let himself cry.


End file.
